


Little Things (Bigger Than They Seem)

by sshomoerotica



Category: Attack the Block (2011)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-25
Updated: 2014-02-25
Packaged: 2018-01-13 18:38:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1236856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sshomoerotica/pseuds/sshomoerotica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just to know you aren't alone, when you've all but lost everything. The new thing that comes around, and overshadows all the things you lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Things (Bigger Than They Seem)

**Author's Note:**

> a miserably measly offering to a (hopefully) burgeoning fandom. longer stuff is on its way.

It's the feeling of Pest's prominent bird-hollow hipbones under Moses' too-large hands.

  
It's the heartbeat beneath that pale thin skin and the echoes of their footsteps in the ruined areas of the block, still charred and dark.

  
It's the comfort and courage of another person's touch. It's how his name sounds when it jumps free from Pest's throat and it's the oppressive silence of a cemetery, the cool achromatic grey of unblemished and unassuming headstones stuck deep in mud and buffeted by frigid rain.

  
It's the blue of Pest's eyes in the washed-out light of a corpse-cold moon, and a red-hot kiss on his neck from behind, quick but lingering after the fact. The hunger that comes and the pain that never leaves, and how sometimes they can both be kept at bay by kisses to unexpectant lips.

  
It's the early morning frost that lingers on the thin glass of his window but the warmth that curls and rises under their sheets.

 

 _Love and loss_ , he thinks, because he read it somewhere years ago, and only now does it make sense. Because out there is loss, and guilt and anger and back-breaking sadness. But here, under Moses' fingers and mouth, and touching him from forehead to little toe is love, vibrant and shining, and every bit as real as the cold graves and faded faces they'll never see again.


End file.
